


Present, Tense

by aurora_australis



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 02:41:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14607495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurora_australis/pseuds/aurora_australis
Summary: An addendum to Fire_Sign's We Should Meet in Air, from the Year of Quotes May Challenge.





	Present, Tense

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Inzannatea (Zanna23)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zanna23/gifts), [Fire_Sign](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Sign/gifts).
  * Inspired by [We Should Meet in Air](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14516985) by [Fire_Sign](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Sign/pseuds/Fire_Sign). 



> If you haven’t yet, you really should read We Should Meet In Air first because 1) it’s completely lovely and 2) this story will make very little sense otherwise.
> 
> Because I couldn't get it out of my head, this is my attempt at an addendum to that piece - otherwise known as that time Fire_Sign let me babysit their creation and I fed it nothing but cake and cotton candy and a steady diet of fluff.
> 
> Enjoy!

_knock knock knock knock_

The sound was so familiar it stopped her dead in her tracks.

Phryne had been halfway up the stairs, heading to bed after a particularly difficult day tracking down a particularly difficult art thief when she’d heard the four knocks in quick succession. She supposed it could be someone else, he was hardly the only policeman she was acquainted with these days, but somehow she knew, she _knew_ , it was him. 

She just didn’t know what to do about it.

It had been over two months since the last time she’d seen him, for lunch and coffee and a painful reminder of what they’d had and why they had given it up. Painful but necessary. So why was he here? She was frozen on the step, caught in a malstrom of emotion. She wanted to fling the door open and kiss him, run up the stairs and hide, stand completely still and wait it out.

_knock knock knock knock_

Instead she opted to take a deep breath, push down the small ache that had suddenly formed in her chest, and open the door just enough to confirm her suspicions.

She had been right, of course. She almost always was.

He stood there on the porch, one hand holding his hat, the other raised to knock a third time. When he saw her he stopped, hand halfway to the glass pane and froze. She understood the impulse. But after a moment he seemed to remember his manners. Phryne firmly believed she would be ice skating in hell the day Jack Robinson actually forgot his manners.

“Miss Fisher.”

Unsure of how to respond, she opted for humor, because it was the safest option she could come up with in the moment. She adopted her best Aunt Prudence moue and remarked, “It’s very late, Inspector.”

The utterly unamused _look_ he gave her in response made her silently applaud her decision. “Too soon?” she asked, smiling innocently up at him.

“Phryne, on my deathbed it will be too soon.” He hovered outside, clearly unsure of both where he stood with her metaphorically and where he should actually stand physically. He looked around before continuing, “But you’re right, it is late and I’m sorry for that. I probably should have called on you at another time, but I have to catch a train first thing in the morning and I wanted - oh! I...I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

She smiled. Always so considerate, her Jack. “No, just some D.H. Lawrence and a cognac. Come in.” She opened the door wider and stepped aside to let him pass. He crossed the threshold and stopped. He looked around for a place to hang his hat and she was reminded very suddenly that he’d never been here before. How odd, she thought. It just feels like he should have been. She took his hat and coat and hung them on the appointed hooks, their material so familiar in her hands even after so much time. When she turned back, she realized he was looking around at her home the same way she had looked around his the first time she was there, which she found absurdly charming. After a few moments of letting her Detective detect, she asked quietly, “Jack, why are you here?”

He turned to face her, all attention immediately back to the woman in front on him. “I’ve been presented with a potential opportunity and/or potential disaster and I wanted to talk it over with you.”

“Sounds serious.”

“Potentially.”

“Well, come into the parlor then.” 

“Should I be worried? Isn’t that what the spider said to the fly?” As he said it, he made a wiggley little arachnid-like motion with his hand and it was Phryne’s turn to look unamused. He put his hands in his pockets and dipped his head in silent apology, which she accepted with a roll of her eyes. The whole exchange felt so damn flirty and fun and _familiar_ and the small ache in her chest returned with a vengeance.

She moved past him towards the room in question, hugging her dressing gown tighter around herself as she led the way. He was here to talk, and while his self control was legendary, hers was not. Best to keep as much fabric between them as possible. “Nightcap?” 

“Um, yes, all right.” He coughed, fidgeting with his hands slightly as he took a seat in one of her chairs, and she suddenly realized how nervous he was. It made her feel a little better. At least she wasn’t alone.

“How did the Addison case work out?” she asked as she handed him a tumbler of whisky. 

His hands immediately stilled and he shot her a slightly incredulous look. Of course she already knew. And he knew she knew. As though she wouldn’t have followed it in the press or grilled Collins at dinner. But it was her attempt to keep them in safer territory so he left it alone. 

“Well. Resolved. Suspect confessed, which ties things up nicely. Apparently, I was,” another cough, “‘invaluable’ to the investigation.”

“Of course you were, Jack,” she said without a hint of humor or teasing. She meant it. And she hoped he knew it. 

“Yes, well, that’s actually why I’m here. Not, not _here_ in your home. Here in Sydney. I’ve been asked to transfer. To Sydney. Permanently.”

Phryne’s eyebrows shot up as she sat on the sofa across from him. 

“Really?” 

“Yes. Chief Commissioner Mason made the offer himself. In person. This evening. From what I gathered from the conversation, he has a bit of a rivalry going with my Commissioner. He seemed very keen to steal me away.”

“Clever man. What...what are you going to do?” 

“I don’t know yet. That’s why I’m _here_ here. In your home. I wanted to talk to you first.” 

“I see.” 

“Yes.”

There was silence for a moment, slightly awkward and much less companionable than their normal quiet. Two years would do that, she supposed. Still, she didn’t like it at all and so it was Phryne who broke the silence first. 

“Well this is just strange. I can’t remember the last time we were so uncomfortable together.”

He considered her statement. “Probably when you showed up in Ballarat when I was undercover.” 

“Oh yes, with the -” 

“Exactly and the -” 

“Right, right.”

He smiled his half smile and she felt some of the tension evaporate. 

God, she missed that smile.

“So, Melbourne without Jack Robinson. If I’m being honest, I can’t really see it.”

“If we’re being honest, neither can I. Though obviously I was gone for years during the War. And there are some attractive reasons to consider the switch.” Phryne smirked at his choice of words but let him continue. “It’s closer to my parents and my sister. It’s a promotion without more time behind a desk, which I can’t ever seem to manage in Melbourne. It would be nice to _finally_ be free of all the residual fallout from the Sanderson Fletcher affair.”

“I’m here,” she added quietly. 

“You’re here,” he agreed. 

She sighed. “Jack, we’ve been through all this. Nothing’s changed.”

“Well, yes, maybe something has actually. Commissioner Mason, I believe you know him?”

“Felix Mason? Yes, we’ve met. A few times. At charity functions, that sort of thing.”

“Well apparently you made an impression. ‘Top notch P.I. and a helluva woman.’” He smirked at her fondly. “It seems your reputation precedes me.”

“Well I should hope so. Nice to know I’m still such a hot topic of conversation.”

“Naturally. But I’m afraid _he_ brought you up, not me. Apparently he knows all about our previous... relationship. It seems in addition to being highly competitive, my Commissioner is also a terrible gossip. Plus my suspension is still on my record, so… Anyway he wanted to let me know right off the bat that that wouldn’t be an issue here. He was very keen to reassure me that Sydney’s a far more... _progressive_ town, and quote ‘not so stuck in the past as to lose an exceptional officer to antiquated expectations,’ end quote.”

“I - we - came up in your interview?”

“Oh yes. Very formally, too. It seems you’re part of my benefits package, Phryne. He put it in the official offer and everything.”

With that Phryne’s face twisted into a combination of shocked horror and abject disgust so quickly she almost pulled a muscle.

Jack laughed then, not his usual wry chuckle, but a full belly laugh that she had rarely heard even when they were together and dear GOD that was unfair. She would do almost anything to hear that laugh again.

“You’re joking,” she stated, rather unnecessarily.

“A bit.”

“That’s horrible, Jack.”

“I know. I’m sorry. But your FACE!” He started laughing again and this time she joined him. When they had both calmed he continued. “No, all he said was that as long as it didn’t negatively affect investigations, our personal relationship was none of his or the force’s business and I had his word on that. He’s incredibly eager to poach one of Melbourne’s finest for the low low price of ignoring an affair that by his assertion is too boring for the press here anyway.”

When she responded, she had stopped laughing.

“He could change his mind.” 

“He could.”

“He could be replaced by someone less open minded.”

“He could.”

“We could find ourselves in the same position two years from now we were two years ago or, or just fall apart all on our own.”

“We could.”

She got up quickly to pour herself another drink. She didn’t even ask if he wanted one, just grabbed his glass on her way and filled it again. She handed it back to him and returned to her seat on the sofa.

“Jack, moving on after you was hard. Harder than I ever imagined it would be, and not an experience I’m eager to repeat.”

Jack stood and moved to sit next to her on the sofa, still maintaining a respectable space between them, but seemingly unable to keep his distance entirely.

“Two years ago I chose my career over us, and I love you but I don’t regret that because some things are too integral to compromise. Your freedom. My identify. I’m a policeman, Phryne. It’s who I am, more than anything else. But that doesn’t mean never compromising on _anything_. And I’d like to think after almost 40 years I’ve shed enough pride to know the difference. I’m happy now. But I was happier with you. That’s why I’m here - I couldn’t give Commissioner Mason an answer without talking to you first. Because not even considering this as a path to being together? _That_ I would regret.” 

“Present tense.”

“Pardon?”

“You said love. Present tense.”

“Phryne, on my deathbed it will be present tense. But that doesn’t mean it’s enough. It wasn’t then and it might not be now. But, it’s worth considering, I think. Discussing. Hence the unexpected visit. But it’s,” he looked at his wristwatch, “almost midnight, and I should go. I have that early morning train and you were clearly on your way to bed. I don’t need to give him my answer right away. Perhaps we can discuss this more sometime soon?”

“No.”

His face fell, and she saw plainly that for all his rational debate he desperately wanted this to work. He schooled his features almost immediately though. That trick she hadn’t missed.

“Oh. Of course, I’ll see myself -”

“No, I meant, no, don’t go. Stay. We can talk now.”

“It’s not too late?”

“Never.” 

She reached up to touch his cheek and was startled to realize she was holding his hand. When, she thought, had that happened?

“This would be a huge risk, Jack. It’s been two years. We could be ill suited now. We could mess this up spectaturaly. Or we could do everything right and still lose each other again. And, as you said, we’re happy now. The safer option would be to leave things as they are.”

“Almost certainly.”

“But…”

“But?”

“But it’s present tense for me too and I’ve never been one for playing it safe.”

The smile on his face then was broad and beautiful and better than even she remembered.

“Phyne, I believe I’ve proven that I can live without Melbourne and that I can live without you. Given the choice, I’d rather live without Melbourne.”

She stood suddenly and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to make some coffee. If we’re going to talk about this, we’ll need some caffeinated fortification.”

He nodded and stood to remove his suit coat. Hanging it over the back of a chair, he wandered over to her gramophone and began looking through the available options. He already seemed so at home. Maybe Melbourne could do without him after all. Maybe she didn’t have to. She stopped in the doorway and smiled at him.

“Darling, you are going to miss that train.”

He looked up at her from the records, an unmistakable twinkle in his eyes, his lips tilted downwards in an endearingly familiar smile.

“I know.”


End file.
